Removing my cross (so that I may find it?)

Today I removed a small silver and pink cross pendant from around my neck. It was a gift I received from a friend on the occasion of my baptism–the Feast of All Saints in 2005–and I have been wearing it on and off ever since that event. While I have not always worn the cross, my decision to remove it today was far more felt and deliberate than in the past.

A ‘Charter of Values’ proposed this past September by the Quebec government–my government–has called for the removal of ‘ostentatious religious symbols’ by public sector employees in an effort to bolster ‘state neutrality’. To clarify for the general public what would constitute an ostentatious religious symbol, the government created a stylish pictogram that illustrates permitted versus prohibited articles of dress and accessories. The small cross that I have worn, not unlike many small crosses I see worn by women and men alike (mostly the former) that vary in quality, expense, and provenance, is not considered an ostentatious religious symbol and therefore would not be banned. Also not subject to ban are the crucifix in the Quebec National Assembly, the massive metres-high cross on Mount Royal, as well as the countless street names through the province that cite Christian saints and martyrs, and the normative Christian-based holidays. The government has argued that these numerous and exclusive state-sponsored symbols are part of the history and heritage of the province (or ‘nation’) and thereby have a role to play in public life. The only kind of cross subject to prohibition is the large pectoral cross–the kind one normally only sees worn by a cleric of high rank or by a blinged out hip hop artist.

If you clicked on the link above to view the pictogram of accepted and banned religious symbols according to this proposed Charter, you will have seen that women’s headscarves (worn by many practising Muslim women), kippahs (worn by many practising Jewish men and some practising Jewish women), and turbans (worn by many practising Sikh men) would all be banned. The government has made an attempt to get creative by devising alternatives to those banned articles: a pair of crescent moon earrings for Muslims, a star of David ring for Jews… A designer line of pret-a-porter faith symbols for newcomers?

I am already vaguely aware of the privileges I can easily (and some would argue unjustifiably) claim for myself because of the colour of my skin, my place of birth and my home, my social networks, my education. Do I want to use a piece of jewellery to enshrine this privileged existence explicitly in my daily life of faith as well? Since the government is determined to make it hard for newcomers to integrate into society while retaining a visibly different (from Christian) faith identity, I’m happy to remove my own state-sanctioned symbol as a small gesture of solidarity with those who are currently threatened. It’s true these proposed rules only apply to employees of the public sector, which I am not; however, the appropriation and approval of this ‘small cross’ as a matter of civil dress code, coupled with the fact that most people who see me any given day do not know who I am or where I work yet are invited immediately to speculate on something very complex and intimate about me through the cross I wear, is enough for me to remove this (let’s admit it) long-compromised symbol that is once again a locus of privilege.

So I’ve lost my cross. Where shall I–and others who come to know me–find it if it’s no longer hanging around my neck? A few places: in communion with God, in scripture that speaks to me and challenges my worldview, in prayer, in confessing my transgressions and asking for forgiveness, in forgiving my transgressors, in gathering with other disciples of the faith, in reaching out, connecting with, and serving those who are not of my peculiar faith incarnation. And I welcome your suggestions, especially ideas around visually creative civil disobedience! (As for wearing a pectoral cross, I’ve considered it, but feel it may send out some rather mixed signals given its normative use? Perhaps a large and elaborate fish or dove would be better?) One would think ‘rulers’ by now would know better than to throw people of faith into the lion’s den; then again, maybe we are being offered a unique opportunity to identify and manifest what we really care about and make greater strides towards it.

About Afra Saskia Tucker

I am Development Coordinator at the Montreal Diocesan Theological College. Blessed with a multi-cultural family and an inclination to learn about other faith traditions, I have learned from my life experiences here and abroad that encounters with people of different faiths, beliefs, and cultures are in fact essential and enriching to my own faith journey.

8 Responses to "Removing my cross (so that I may find it?)"

Afra, I totally agree with the sentiment of the article. As someone was born in Quebec, I have been following this story. I have one question/challenge for you however. How will people notice your act of solidarity? More deeply, how will people notice the act and see that it is not just a personal response, but a faithful response to the issue at hand?
I would side more on the overt visual representation side of protest, but a) that’s me and b) I don’t live there – so it’s easy for me to suggest.
But as I said, I think your article hits on something important. The christian church, which seems to be the ‘favoured’ religious symbolism, needs to be visible in it’s critique and abhorence for this political decision. Blessings.

By Afra Saskia Tucker November 4, 2013 - 7:03 pm

Kyle, thank you. I acknowledge and accept your challenge, although I have no answers to give right now. I guess I shall pray on it, listen and watch for opportunities to follow this through as a faithful response and update you later. Just today, I wondered if making a pinned symbol, not unlike the red square worn by the protesting students, that acknowledged my solidarity as a person of faith with other persons of faith, might be the way to go. Something fairly universal, like the a pair of hands in prayer? Also, doing a lot of interfaith work gives me the opportunity to connect with my sisters and brothers of different faiths in person, so I can tell them with words and show them through Christ-centred actions just how committed I am to supporting them on this issue. Others will also hear what I have to say when the issue comes up. I’ll see where all that leads me.

Afra, my own odd sense of humour/public protest would be to wear an oversized bedazzled medallion that says “JESUS SAVES” on it. When asked to take it off, I would respond that those are words and not symbols, ergo outside the scope of the newly adopted ban.

By Afra Saskia Tucker November 7, 2013 - 12:15 am

There’s a librarian at my alma mater in Montreal who always wears a very large pin with large letters that say “I work for Jesus.” And my guess is she doesn’t intend to remove it any time soon!

interesting article – even though it brings back memories to the days of the so called german democratic republic, which was socialist and also forbade religious symbols.
they gave you a really hard time and ruined your life when you dissented to the communsit system.
yet conformity isn’t exactly freedom, is it?